


Now People Will Definitely Talk

by BetsyByron



Series: Collected wee fics [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Adoption, Babysitting, Children, Crossover, Established Relationship, Family, Ficlet, M/M, Married Couple, Parenthood, Parentlock, Surrogate mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetsyByron/pseuds/BetsyByron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs Hudson's got married ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now People Will Definitely Talk

“Hamish, no!”

John grabbed his son and lifted him off the floor, leaving the little boy to kick the air furiously.

“I saw you.” John scolded. “You must **not** hit your cousin.”

“He stole my bear!” Hamish protested.

Andrew Bond-Holmes, sitting in the middle of the carpet, cast the both of them a ferocious look and tightened his arms around the green teddy bear. He was two, a year younger than Hamish, and didn’t seem to have decided to start talking yet. At least not when anyone who wasn’t either of his dads was around.

“Andy.” John endeavoured, still holding a wriggling Hamish under one arm. “You know you should ask before you take toys that aren’t yours.”

The kid made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he was ill-behaved, not more than any other kid, but his silence was disconcerting, and John couldn’t deal with him the way he did with Hamish since he wasn’t his son to stimulate or punish.

The front door opened and closed downstairs, and John had a flash of hope that it would be either James or Q, but he knew they wouldn’t be back before much later.

“John.” Sherlock called from the stairs. “Have you ever-”

He stopped short as he appeared at the living room’s door.

“Oh.” He frowned. “We are babysitting for my brother again.”

“They are on a mission.” John defended faintly.

“You know what _I_ think?” Sherlock replied, throwing coat and scarf on the couch. “They’re getting another one. Hey you!”

John had let go of Hamish, who had ran to and collided with his father. Sherlock ruffled his hair – as if it wasn’t unruly enough already.

“Another what?” John asked, casting an uncertain look towards little Andrew. “Another child?”

“Of course, not another job.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Q always said he wanted more than one, and Mr. Bond doesn’t seem unreceptive to the idea as far as I know. I bet you they have been or will be to the adoption agency again – if that’s not where they are today.”

Contrary to John and Sherlock, who had decided to “fabricate a baby”, as James put it, with a surrogate mother and one of their sperms (although they had wished it to be random, obviously Sherlock’s from the look of Hamish), James and Q had felt more comfortable adopting. Completely bald as a baby, Andrew had grown a full head of fiery red hair which made both his parents laugh and abandon their bets on which of them he would most look like.

“Is uncle Q going to bring me a car?” Hamish asked, tugging at Sherlock’s trousers.

Q had promised his nephew a toy car that answered to the command of his voice. Really, John though, had he nothing better to do with his time in Q-branch.

“Really.” He said out loud. “Are you okay with Hamish knowing his uncle only by 'Q'?”

Sherlock shrugged.

“MI6 regulations. Nobody is supposed to know his real identity. Mycroft hammered that so hard I think even I have forgotten Q’s given name.”

“Bullsh- bubbles.” John caught himself, sounding ridiculous but successfully safeguarding the children’s innocent ears. “He’s your brother.”

“Q suits him.” Sherlock ruled.

John sighed. He knew he wouldn’t have the last word in this, and it didn’t surprise him that much after all that _SH_ wouldn’t care about calling his brother an initial.

“Like it’s in line with MI6 regulation to get married to an agent or adopt kids with your Quartermaster.” He muttered nonetheless.

“Well.” Sherlock said, planting a kiss on his own husband’s lips. “At least Andrew is probably the most protected child in the country.”

“Hum.” John moderated, returning the kiss as unchastely as was reasonable in front of the kids. “Wait until someone comes after Hamish and you might revise that statement.”


End file.
